


The Brightest of Signs

by potentiality_26



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Christmas Party, F/M, Families of Choice, First Kiss, Harry Lives, M/M, Matchmaking, Mistletoe, Multi, Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 01:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5520005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentiality_26/pseuds/potentiality_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry could practically hear the wheels in Lancelot’s head turning as she put what he had just told her together with everything she already knew about him- very little that Eggsy hadn’t told her, most likely, since this was the longest conversation the two of them had yet had. And Eggsy might not have told her very much at all; Harry had noticed that Eggsy could be rather territorial of him, disinclined to share him with anyone- even his closest friend in the organization.</i>
</p>
<p>Harry talks Roxy through a mission just before Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brightest of Signs

**Author's Note:**

> This fills the motion sickness square for my H/C bingo. The backstory I give Harry in this might not be to all tastes; it popped into my head the very first time I saw the movie and I’ve had a really had time letting it go. The title is from Harbor by Vienna Teng.
> 
> Not Brit-picked.

“Harry.”

There was a tightness in Merlin’s voice that gave Harry pause, and Merlin calling him Harry at work and on the clock meant that they had entered personal favor territory- something which happened only rarely and was a good thing for Harry even more rarely still. “What is it?”

Merlin was silent for so long that Harry almost wondered if the communication system was malfunctioning, then he said, “I’m going to need you to take over Lancelot’s feed for a few minutes.”

Harry considered giving Merlin a hard time. But just as everything about the request made it clear that this was at least partially a personal rather than professional matter, everything about it also begged Harry not to ask questions- and Harry hadn’t become as close to Merlin as he was without learning to read those kinds of cues from him and respect them.  
  
He kept his mouth shut, putting aside the reports he had been reading. He glanced toward the couch pressed up against the wall to one side of his office, where Eggsy lay sound asleep. Like all the knights Eggsy had a study and rooms of his own at HQ, but ever since Harry had been made Arthur- ever since V-Day and its aftermath, in point of fact- Eggsy had preferred to keep Harry as close as possible. Harry tried not to think too much about why; he was afraid that it could well break him, to believe that Eggsy wanted something beyond friendship from him and be wrong.

“All right, Merlin.” Harry kept his voice low. “I’m on my way.”

He rose. It was chilly in the manor during the winter, and the blanket that Eggsy had wrapped around himself had been slipping off for the last half hour. On the little table next to the couch was a small porcelain Christmas tree set with lights that cast a glow of red, green, and gold across Eggsy’s face, but Harry didn't let himself look for long. He pulled the blanket up to Eggsy's chin, resisted the urge to run his fingers through the tuft of Eggsy’s hair sticking up against the couch cushions, and made his way down to Merlin’s division.

When he arrived, the first thing Harry noticed was how empty it was. All the various handlers and techs at work down there had been cleared out, leaving Merlin and now Harry completely alone with Lancelot’s feed.

The second thing Harry noticed was the feed itself. His gut clenched when he observed how it was pointed downward and too still- but if Lancelot had been injured or worse Merlin would surely have opened with that. Silently, Harry indicated the microphone.

“Off,” Merlin told him. “For now.”

“All right,” Harry said. “What’s going on?” If his memory of Lancelot’s briefing didn’t fail him, hers was a relatively simple mission- to plant a bug on their target during the holiday party he was throwing on his yacht south of the equator. Of course, to hear Merlin tell it the term ‘bug’ was wholly inadequate to describe the nanotechnology involved, but that wasn’t particularly important just now. The man in question had no bodyguards and no enemies that Kingsman was aware of. Lancelot should have been perfectly safe- but of course even the simplest of missions could still go wrong. “Did she plant the bug?”

“Of course,” Merlin said- sniffed, rather, sounding personally affronted- though whether that was on Lancelot’s behalf or his bugs’ Harry couldn’t guess. “The job is done- this is Lancelot we’re talking about.” Ah. Lancelot, then. Interesting. “She just- she isn’t doing very well.”

“What happened?”

“She’s… she’s seasick.”

“Ah,” Harry said at last. Merlin looked like he was waiting for more, but Harry didn’t have more to add. He gestured for Merlin to give him some room and sat down in his vacated seat, turning on the microphone. “Lancelot,” he said.

“Arthur,” she replied after a moment, her voice weaker than Harry had ever heard it before. “Merlin had to go?” She sounded sad, hurt even, and that was rather interesting too. Harry shot Merlin a look, curious. It had no bearing on the mission, so Harry would let it go for the moment, but when he had time Harry fully intended to give this matter further consideration.

“I'm afraid so. How are you?”

“Not so good,” she admitted. “I suppose it works for the cover though, doesn’t it? The mark is never going to expect a spy to have gotten seasick, is he?”

“Probably not.” Harry heard a huff of breathless laughter, a thin veneer of humor over wariness and fear. She was expecting to be told off, if not suspended or even fired, and he could understand why; talking to the boss right now was undoubtedly not giving her a lot of confidence. “In your first aid pack there should be two pills for motion sickness, have you taken them?”

"Yes.” Out of the corner of her feed Harry could see that Lancelot had a death grip on a glass of water. She took a sip while he watched, wiping her mouth after she had finished. “Will they really help?” Her hand lingered over her lips.

“They should,” Harry told her. “You would have taken them before boarding if we’d known.” Harry had gotten very good at keeping the rebuke out of his tone when he said things like that- he had a lot of practice with Eggsy- but Lancelot would undoubtedly hear it anyway. Harry wasn’t interested in giving her a dressing down, because it was obvious that she was punishing herself enough for both them right now. He would be more interested in driving home that she had made a mistake if she wasn’t already so keenly aware that she had- but because she _was_ aware, she also expected the worst. Eggsy had given Harry a lot of experience with that particular conundrum as well, not that Harry had needed it.

Lancelot gave a soft groan and rested her forehead on her knees, obscuring the view through the glasses.

“Watch the horizon, Lancelot,” Harry said. “It’ll help.”

“Will it?”

“That’s been my experience,” Harry replied. “I don’t care for boats myself. Or planes. I got a license to pilot both because I thought if I spent enough time in one I’d stop hating them so much. It didn’t actually help.”

Lancelot made a noise of agreement, eyes obediently on the horizon. Harry had thought she would understand that. He already knew that she didn’t like heights or flying- since V-Day she had gone out sky diving at nearly every opportunity, and gotten flying lessons from Merlin. “I should have told someone that I’d never really been on a boat before. I just wasn’t expecting to get this sick.”

“Worrying about it probably isn’t helping.”

“Arthur,” she sighed. “Just say what Merlin brought you down there to say.”

“He brought me down here to say that yes, you should have told someone that this mission might be a problem for you- but that I understand why you didn’t and that if you learn from this experience and don’t make the same mistake again- which I am confident that you will and that you won’t- it’s fine. You did the job. It’s absolutely fine.”

"It’s fine?” she repeated, voice still wary and unusually small.

“Yes.” Harry stayed silent for a little longer, organizing his thoughts. He hadn’t really expected to make this speech today but he intended to do it right. “You aren’t like the other Kingsman,” he said finally. “And you feel that the only way you got to where you are is by being- or at least seeming to be- perfect. You aren’t wrong about that. You’ve had to be that much better than everyone else to get even this far. But you’re also not going to lose your position just because it turns out that there are things you can’t do. It is important that you learn to admit a weakness, for your safety and others’, but Merlin asked me down here so that I could tell you that I know why it’s hard for you.”

Lancelot was quiet for a moment, processing. “Why you?” she asked at last.

“Because I’m not what you probably think I am,” Harry told her. “My… background was common knowledge at Kingsman, once upon a time, but it's not something the others would tell anyone who wasn't already in the know, so I’m not surprised that you aren’t aware.” Kingsman agents closed ranks around whoever got the job, no matter what. "Chester King used to… excuse my presence by reminding himself that my father was a very important man. But my mother wasn’t his wife. We lived in comfort because he paid her off quite handsomely and I got an excellent education. My half-brother and I finally met after some years of being distantly aware of each other and rather hit it off. He was Lancelot before you and James Spencer, and he made me his candidate for Galahad. It’s probably difficult to imagine now, but at the time I was about as popular as you or Eggsy.”

Harry could practically hear the wheels in Lancelot’s head turning as she put what he had just told her together with everything she already knew about him- very little that Eggsy hadn’t told her, most likely, since this was the longest conversation the two of them had yet had. And Eggsy might not have told her very much at all; Harry had noticed that Eggsy could be rather territorial of him, disinclined to share him with anyone- even his closest friend in the organization.

For a while they both kept silent, Lancelot reworking her vision of Harry, Harry listening to her nauseated breathing even out as the pills did their work. According to the screens tracking the vessel's progress, Lancelot would be back on dry land soon, and from there on a plane home.

A little hesitantly, Lancelot asked, “Is there anything you don’t do?”

Harry had that one prepared, at least. “Missions in the desert. I can’t abide sand. It gets everywhere.”

She laughed softly. The sound was still a little shaky, but she was clearly feeling better. She would get through this, and in the end it would be little more than a fairly innocuous way for her to learn a very important lesson. Harry heard a rumble of conversation, far enough away that he couldn't hear it properly. "I think we'll be docking soon," she told him.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Harry said.

“Yes, sir,” she agreed. “Thank you, sir.”

Harry turned off the microphone again and glanced in Merlin’s direction. “There we are,” he said.

Merlin had his arms crossed and his lips pressed into a line. “You lied to her.”

“I misdirected. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“I suppose not,” Merlin said. “But that isn’t why you don’t do missions in the desert anymore.”

“No,” Harry admitted. “But she knew that.” It was part of the point- that Lancelot also know that he understood that she would never be completely comfortable admitting to limits. That this was a process and likely always would be. “Don’t worry, Merlin,” Harry said, standing and giving Merlin’s elbow a pat. “Lancelot and I understood each other well enough.”

“I should’ve been afraid of that, shouldn’t I?” Merlin muttered as he returned to his usual chair. “I had one agent that I could trust to do the job without any unnecessary theatrics, and once you get your hooks in her, who knows?”

“Who indeed,” Harry said.

A stream of very creative insults followed him out the door.

When he returned to his office, Harry was greeted by Eggsy’s voice murmuring his name. He flicked on the light and leaned against the door jamb for a moment, watching as Eggsy blinked sleepily at him from the couch. “Something going on?”

“It was Lancelot.”

Eggsy blinked a little faster. “Rox okay?”

“She’s perfectly fine, Eggsy,” Harry told him. “Or she will be.” Harry came to sit on the arm of the couch, near Eggsy’s head. “There was a… bit of trouble, but it’s handled.” Finally getting its way in spite of his better judgment, Harry's hand dropped to the top of Eggsy’s head. Eggsy wouldn’t always allow such a thing, not when he was fully awake- but he could be remarkably affectionate when he was tired. Harry probably wouldn’t use that so shamelessly if he was a better person. Since he was more… middling on a good day, Harry ran his fingers through Eggsy’s hair.

Eggsy leaned, very slightly, into Harry’s touch. “She’ll still make it back in time for Christmas?”

“That was always the plan. Any reason it’s of particular interest to you?”

Eggsy shrugged, settling back against the cushion again now that he was sure no catastrophe was brewing. “She’s looking forward to it, is all. The party.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Harry said.

“Me too.”

Harry’s hand paused in its progress through Eggsy’s hair. “Oh?” Harry did his utmost to conceal his surprise, but it must have come out in spite of him, because Eggsy’s eyebrows drew together.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Rox made it sound like a whole thing.”

“It is,” Harry said, letting his hand start moving again. He had only thought- it would be a bit difficult to explain to Eggsy just what he had thought. Like the previous Lancelot and the Lancelot before him, Roxy had a country estate and stiff familial expectations she had never been able- or eager- to fulfill waiting for her during the holiday season. It was a common story at Kingsman. All of them were wealthy and most of them were spoiled- but they were also all black sheep in their way. No one sought a life like this one if they weren’t running from something, and though Percival wasn’t the type to tell someone else’s secrets, Harry had always gotten the impression that this Lancelot was running harder than most.

And Harry- well, Harry was different, but he had come to Kingsman full in the knowledge that blood did not necessarily equate family. But with his stepfather finally out of the picture and his new income opening up countless avenues for himself and for his mother and baby sister, Eggsy had all the love and family he could wish for.

Still, Lancelot had evidently made him want to come and Harry had no intention of excluding him. Eggsy was free to do as he liked.

“You all right, Harry?” Eggsy asked. He sounded worried.

“I’m fine,” Harry was quick to assure him. He must have gone too quiet for too long. “Just… thinking.” He cleared his throat. “You’re welcome at the party, of course. I simply didn’t want for you to think it was mandatory. I had… assumed you would have plans at home.”

Eggsy shrugged. “We’ll work something out. No reason I can’t have both, right?”

“No reason at all,” Harry replied, still playing lightly with Eggsy’s hair. “You should go back to sleep.”

“’Kay,” Eggsy murmured, and did.

*   *   *

Lancelot was wearing a wine red turtleneck that suited her beautifully when she walked into the ballroom on Christmas Eve. After a several days spent watching her closely whenever he had a moment, Harry’s eyes sought her automatically at this point.

He had been the one to debrief her when she returned home. She had still been a little pale- the affects of sea sickness might pass quickly enough, but the sting of having put a mission in jeopardy, however well things ultimately turned out, was slower to fade in Harry's experience- and he had been worried about her. He had come to believe that part of why Lancelot hadn’t simply spoken up on the matter had in fact been the ax of the holiday season hanging over her head. Harry had noticed her angrily hanging up her phone several times over the last few days, and he suspected that she had wanted to be kept as busy as possible until Christmas came and went.  

She seemed happy enough tonight, at any rate.

The ballroom at the Kingsman manor house- used primarily for training in everything from dancing to fencing most of the year- was for once being put to its proper use. Apart from the enormous tree next to the double doors leading in from the entrance hall, the floor had been cleared for the organization's many employees to mingle and dance. Harry had spoken to most of them in turn, but he was alone for the moment. He had found a nice spot by the fireplace that allowed him to keep an eye on just about everyone at the party, and once he had confirmed that Lancelot was well, Harry went back to scanning the room.  

Eggsy was over by the buffet table, talking to Amelia, who was still visiting after a joint mission with her branch of Kingsman. He looked utterly delectable in a knitted jumper that anyone who didn't know Agent Bors would probably assume had been a gift from Eggsy's mother instead. Harry slid his gaze away from Eggsy with an effort, searching for Merlin instead.

On one wall there was an enormous painting of some illustrious ancestor of their founder. It concealed a secret- or at least somewhat secret- passageway, the quickest route to the underground tunnels and from thence Merlin's lab. Their quartermaster had, predictably, been inching closer to it all evening.

When he saw Lancelot, Merlin stopped. His cheeks flushed faintly red- so faintly that Harry might not have noticed if he hadn't been on the lookout for it- and his eyes fixed to her for several moments before he jerked them down and began to study the floor with great interest. Over the last few days, Harry had noticed that Merlin's interest in Lancelot was equally pronounced; he couldn't believe that he hadn't seen it before. But of course Merlin was naturally reserved in such matters. He was unlikely to make the first move- or any move at all- in a situation like this.

Harry would have teased him about it already if he didn’t know perfectly well what a damn hypocrite it would make him.

But Harry was sure- as sure as he could be without asking- that Lancelot was interested in return, and thus he saw no reason not to stir the pot a little if he was given the chance.

He was, only a few minutes later. Lancelot and Merlin seemed to gravitate to one another when they were in the same room- something else that Harry really ought to have noticed before now- and tonight was no exception. Harry couldn't hear what they talked about when they reached each other, but he had no doubt it was work related. Not too promising- but... Oh.  Their placement in the room...

Harry smiled. A little ways above their heads, he could clearly see a sprig of mistletoe. By the looks of things, neither of them had noticed it yet. And they called themselves agents. Of course, Merlin could spot even the smallest aberration in a couple of seconds of security footage or a few lines of code- he was simply less good at seeing what was right in front of him. Like the way Lancelot was currently watching him as if nothing else existed in the world- including what was hanging just about her head.  

The mistletoe was most likely Percival's work. Despite his mild and quiet nature, the man was a Christmas menace. Harry had been too comatose to see it, but according to Merlin he had been subdued the previous Christmas, most likely because of James’ death. They all had. 

Harry shook off melancholy thoughts and crossed to them, glass of mulled wine still in his hand. 

Lancelot caught his eye first and cocked her head to one side.  "You look as if you're up to something," she said when he was close enough to hear her. 

Merlin rolled his eyes and grumbled, “One mission and the two of you can read each other’s minds, is that it?”

Harry smiled his most benign smile. “No need to be jealous.” Just like that, Merlin’s gaze was glued to the floor again and Lancelot… well, the newfound sympathy between them was growing, but it was still ingrained in Lancelot to bite her tongue. It looked to Harry like that was all that was keeping her from telling him to keep his mouth shut. “I only wanted to bring something to your attention, that's all." He spread his hands innocently.

Merlin looked up sharply. “What?”

Harry pointed above their heads. “Mistletoe.”

“You’re under it now too,” Lancelot pointed out. There was a teasing glint in her eye.  

"Why so I am," Harry said pleasantly. He certainly wasn't bothered about it. He had kissed Merlin at least a dozen times over their long acquaintance and it never exactly pained him, not least because Merlin made the same just-sucked-on-a-lemon face every single time Harry did it. He shrugged, drained his glass and set it down on a nearby table, and reeled Merlin in. He kept the kiss short, and Merlin tolerated it with as much grace as ever. Harry was less sure of what Lancelot would do. She was a confident young woman, but not without her hang-ups. Still, it _had_ been her idea.

When he was finished with Merlin, Harry leaned toward her, careful to let Lancelot take it the rest of the way. If she preferred to peck him on the cheek and move on, no one would think less of her for it. Merlin would almost certainly be pleased.

Lancelot smiled faintly and closed the remaining distance between them. The touch of her lips against his own was pleasant, friendly. The fabric of her turtleneck was warm and soft under his hand as he held her shoulder gently. In her eyes as she drew back, Harry could see that she knew exactly what he was up to and was still deciding how to feel about it. Harry knew that whether this would be a charming story to tell on later Christmases or a bone of contention between them would depend wholly on what happened next.

Harry didn’t think he needed to be worried.

He backed off, pointing between them, and said, “I believe this is the part where you two kiss.” They turned to each other, both red-cheeked and surprisingly shy, given that Harry had seen footage of Lancelot taking an enemy stronghold in only fifteen minutes and Merlin was _fifty_ years old, and leaned in at the same time.

There was a bit of awkwardness as their noses brushed, a little uncertainty as they settled into each other, neither sure how long this ought to last. And then they both seemed to realize at the same time that the other was just as invested in this as they were and then-

Well. That was that.

Harry peeled away without a word, thinking to seek out Percival and congratulate him on the decorations, but he was waylaid by Bors and a horrible homemade jumper of his very own.

By the time Harry had obediently put it on and rejoined the party, Merlin and Lancelot had taken themselves off to one of the couches lining the edge of the ballroom. They were talking quietly to each other, their faces very close. Though it might have been the light coming off the Christmas tree, Harry fancied Lancelot was glowing.

Before Harry had the chance to pat himself on the back once more, his eyes found Eggsy again. He was still by the buffet table, still talking to Amelia, but he seemed distracted, his gaze flicking frequently away from his conversation partner- and toward Merlin and Lancelot. Harry saw irritation in the twitch of his jaw and sadness in his eyes. Harry knew that look, even if he wasn't yet sure what had inspired it. Eggsy was hurt, and frustrated because he was hurt- angry at himself for feeling that way. Probably, in this case, because he wanted to be happy for his friends.

He wanted to be, but he wasn't.

Harry stopped, considering. Did Eggsy like one of them? Had Harry missed that too?

He thought Merlin and Lancelot were well suited, he wouldn't have meddled otherwise- but if it had hurt Eggsy he was still sorry things had come out like this. Was it Lancelot? Eggsy had insisted- more than once- that his feelings for Lancelot were strictly platonic, but perhaps he had been lying. Perhaps he had not realized the depth of what he felt until it was too late. Harry didn't like to imagine it. He liked to imagine that it was Merlin Eggsy had been interested in even less. It was entirely clear to Harry what Eggsy would see in Lancelot, why no one else could compare. Merlin had his charms, of course- Harry knew that even if he had never wished to partake of them himself- but it was different with him. With him Harry would always wonder- as he would never have had to do with Lancelot- what exactly it was that had made Eggsy want him instead of Harry. 

These were not thoughts Harry was especially proud of himself for entertaining. Probably, he looked as miserable and angry with himself as Eggsy did right at the moment. He was certainly distracted- distracted enough that he missed Lancelot leaving Merlin's side and approaching him until she had already threaded her arm around his. “He’ll be all right,” she assured him, not saying who ‘he’ was. Not really needing to.

“You’re sure?”

“He’s happy for me. He _will_ be happy for me. It’s only that we were... in the same boat, as they say." She laughed softly. "And now he doesn’t think we are anymore. Do you understand what I'm saying?”        

“No,” he admitted.

She sighed. “You took good care of me out there.”

Harry couldn't help frowning at the change of subject. “Thanks aren’t necessary.”

“I know,” she said. “But the point is that you helped me- twice, actually, if you count just now with the mistletoe, although I like to think Merlin and I would have gotten there eventually. I’d like to return the favor, if I can.”

“And can you?”

“Go over there.” She jerked her head in Eggsy’s direction and gave Harry a little shove. “Right now.”

Harry went, because Lancelot had most definitely earned a bit of unthinking obedience on his part, and what was more Eggsy had excused himself from Amelia and was alone. Once he had been made an agent the other Kingsman had accepted Eggsy just as they had Lancelot and Harry before her- quite a few of them might have been as snobbish as the old Arthur in their way, but an organization like Kingsman didn't really function without its members learning to depend on- and, in many ways, love- one another. It was part of the reason romantic relationships between Kingsmen were allowed, if not strictly encouraged. Their fellow agents were all most of them had. Still, everyone appeared to be giving Eggsy a wide berth- probably because of the look on his face- and Harry hated to see him isolated.  

“Harry,” Eggsy said. His smile was smaller than some Harry had seen on his face, but it was still genuine, still lovely.

“How are you?” Harry asked, because he thought the sadness in Eggsy’s expression could not go unremarked on- certainly not just because Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know the root of it.

“Fine,” Eggsy said. “I’ll be fine.”  

Harry fell silent for a while, searching for something to say. Most of the things that typically came to mind when he was looking at Eggsy- _you are so lovely, let me take you home, let me take you home forever_ \- might not be welcome. As he considered his next move, Harry glanced around- and when he did he developed a suspicion as to why Lancelot had sent him over so urgently a moment ago. Once he had parted ways with Amelia Eggsy had drifted away from the buffet table at last- and there was yet another sprig of mistletoe, this one right above Eggsy's head. 

Harry nodded toward it. "Eggsy," he started. 

Eggsy looked up and swallowed heavily, his tongue flicking out over his lips. “Yeah.”

“May I-”

“Yeah,” Eggsy said again, breathless.

Harry still wasn’t sure if this was a single chance to kiss Eggsy’s beautiful lips or an opportunity to form a deeper relationship with him. He wasn’t sure what Lancelot’s game was, or how much she did or didn't know about Eggsy's opinions on the matter. Then he remembered _we were... in the same boat, as they say. And now he doesn’t think we are anymore. Do you understand?_ and suddenly he _was_ sure. Suddenly he looked into Eggsy's eyes and what he saw was unmistakably hope. He did wonder, though- if Eggsy had confided something in his friend, if she knew Eggsy wanted Harry, if she had been sure that Harry felt the same way- and she must have been, to have engineered this- why had she only now decided to push them together? Was it indeed her way of thanking him for the other day? Or had Harry actually passed some kind of test?

He decided that, right at the moment, he didn’t particularly care.

He leaned down, keeping the kiss soft, just teasing at Eggsy’s lips until Eggsy gave a soft whimper and kissed him back. His arms twined around Harry's shoulders and made fists of Bors' hideous jumper. Welcome thus assured, Harry kissed Eggsy deeper, tasting the eggnog he had been drinking, savoring the heat of him pressed so close at long last. Harry let his hands come to rest around Eggsy's waist.

They were both breathless when Harry finally broke the kiss, but he stayed close, fingers hooking around Eggsy's belt loops. “And how are you now?” he asked quietly.

Suddenly Eggsy’s smile could have lit up a city. “Better.”

“How much better?”

“Not sure,” Eggsy replied, eyes glittering. “Maybe you could kiss me some more and we’ll see.”

As Eggsy tugged him in the direction of somewhere a little more private, Harry noticed that Lancelot and Merlin had moved out onto the dance floor. Over Merlin’s shoulder, Lancelot shot Harry a smile.

He returned it.    

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on [tumblr](http://potentiality-26.tumblr.com/).


End file.
